The Sheik and the Slave

"Hello," he said, smiling at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice husky from sleep.

He remained quiet and then spoke.

"I have come to take you home."

"I'm fine where I am. I like being outdoors," she said. She moved to sit up.

"No," he said. "That is not what I mean."

She lowered her ey

es.

"You mean Arabia."

"Yes, Arabia. My home, your home, our son's home."

Katharine blushed in the afternoon light.

"It could be a daughter. I know you would hate a daughter. You already have two."

"Yes, I have two. But a child from our union would be blessed by Allah."

He reached out to stroke her cheek.

"And there will be many more nights to come for us to create a son," he continued.

Katharine blushed again at his familiarity and words.

"Mohammed, I can't go with you to Arabia. Your people would never allow me to be your wife and consort. I am a foreigner. They would hate me and it would ruin your reputation as their lord."

"No, princess. They would be fine with my choice, and they will learn to love you."

"But," she began.

"And besides, it is too late for all of that. You are breeding with my child. There is only one choice."

Katharine lowered her eyes before him as he spoke. It seemed so natural that she should be here under a great oak tree in England talking to a man from a distant land of the child they created that lay in her belly. And yet, it was all wrong.

"Katharine. I have followed you across many lands. I ache for you. Would you deny me?" He pulled her into the circle of his arms and Kat could smell the horse scent on him and sandalwood incense.

"Mohammed," she said.

"Shhh. No more words. I don't want to talk anymore. I just want to hold you. I want to be close to my woman. You are all that matters to me."

His words thrilled her as she relished being close to him and listening to his pounding heart. His mouth kissed her golden hair and lightly bit her delicate ear, causing gooseflesh to break out on her arms.

"Hold me tighter," she spoke into his ear. "Don't let me go."

He grinned.

"I won't, little falcon,” he responded. “You are mine."

She pulled him closer to her as his hands went tightly around her waist. He pulled the bodice of her dress down, and her breasts came spilling out.

"Be careful, Mohammed," she gasped. "They are so tender since I've become pregnant."